


It's not up to you to save me

by letyourdorkout



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 04:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letyourdorkout/pseuds/letyourdorkout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based from a scene from the movie Titanic. AU! Quinn Fabray is a penniless, wandering artist who won tickets over a game of Poker. Rachel Berry is the obedient daughter forced to marry a rich man. They are worlds apart, but hey, all is fair in love right? Fluff, for the most part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's not up to you to save me

The wind is blowing when she steps out of her cabin and up to the bow.

 

But she prefers it this way. There is something calming about the wind ruffling her loosely tied hair and the smell of the ocean when she inhales a lungful. The sound of the tranquil waves is like music to her ears, as it slowly drowns the jovial tunes reverberating from the _third-class_ passenger deck’s hall.

Her hands run along the metal rails as she reaches the edge, propping sturdily against both when she leans a little forward to catch a glimpse of the blue ocean. The air is cold, but she doesn’t mind; the sun is about to set and it’s just too exquisite for her to miss.

She could stay here, she thinks, she could stay in this place and never leave.

These are the kinds of moments that make her feel like she’s something of worth—not just some penniless artist wandering around aimlessly. _Someone_ who can walk on the same ground as the _nobles_ do.

These are the moments that make her feel like she’s invincible; as if she owns the world, and she’s its _king_.

Unsinkable, like how this _famous ship_ claims to be.

***

 “You seem like you are in deep thought.”

She whips around at the sound of another’s voice, a smile instantaneously shaping on her lips as she sees who has decided to grace her with her presence.

“Hello, Quinn.”

“This is surely a pleasant surprise.” Quinn hooks her thumbs in her suspenders, and bows her head courteously. “A pleasant afternoon to you, my lady.”

“Good afternoon to you as well.” The newcomer laughs softly at Quinn’s antics. “I hope I’m not intruding anything?”

“No,” Quinn says with a gentle shake of the head. “Of course, you’re not.”

“I’m not being a bother, am I?”

Quinn snorts light-heartedly at that; she doesn’t fight the grin that breaks out. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Rachel,” She calls out admonishingly, but it is playful, which coaxes a shy smile from the other girl. “I thought I already told you that you are never a bother. I probably made that clear the past few days.”

There’s a faint blush that colors Rachel’s cheeks upon hearing Quinn’s words. She catches her bottom lip in between her teeth, as she tries to hold her head up all the while avoiding Quinn’s eyes. “Well, that is quite lovely to know.”

The grin Quinn gives her in response serves as invitation enough for her to walk towards the taller girl. But then she remembers the conversation they had prior to this, as she takes one deliberate step after another, and she can’t help but feel apprehensive.

Quinn’s words are ringing loudly in her ears: “ _I’m not an idiot. I know how the world works. I’ve only got ten bucks in my pocket, and it isn’t enough. I’ve got nothing to offer you, I know that. But I’m too involved now. You jump, I jump, remember? I can’t just turn away without knowing you’d be alright. That’s all I want.”_

“Quinn,” Rachel starts nervously.

She remembers saying that she was fine, that she _will_ befine, because she _was_ ; until Quinn started pointing out the bitter truth, and it was something she couldn’t handle at that point. “ _They’ve got you trapped, Rachel. And you’re gonna die if you don’t break free; maybe not right away because you’re strong, but, sooner or later, that fire that I love about you… that fire’s going to burn out._ ”

Rachel stands no more than a few inches apart from Quinn, a hand unconsciously brushing along the cheek Quinn had cupped, and she swears she can still feel the spot burning, right where Quinn’s fingertips had grazed. “About last night—“

Quinn raises a finger and shushes her quickly, and what sounded like an apology dies at the tip of her tongue.

They’re both wordless for a few beats as Quinn studies the smaller girl, while Rachel has to push the thought of pressing a kiss on Quinn’s finger at the very back of her mind.

“Give me your hand,” rasps Quinn. The corner of her mouth tugs into a smile and just like that, Rachel knows what happened the night before is completely forgotten.

A soft chuckle echoes from Rachel’s throat, but she extends a hand anyways. In the short span of time she has been acquainted with Quinn, the girl has been known to be quite spontaneous.

Quinn gently pulls Rachel towards her, and she has to fight the strong urge to dip her head and give her a kiss when Rachel’s gaze becomes level with hers. “Now, close your eyes,” She says instead.

A puzzled look crosses Rachel’s face, which quickly turns into amusement as Quinn continues to prod her.

“Come on, close them.”

With a playful roll of the eyes, Rachel does what she’s told. She feels Quinn shuffle to her side, without letting go of their already joined hands, and she hears Quinn say, “Step up.”

Her head turns towards the direction of Quinn’s voice, her expression one of uncertainty. But she takes the step anyways, because the way Quinn is whispering into her ear about how she promises to keep her safe from anything makes Rachel feel bold and brave. She puts another foot forth, breathing out relief as soon as both her feet touch the raised section of the deck.

Quinn is now fully behind her, and despite the chill surrounding them, Rachel cannot help but absorb the heat radiating off of Quinn’s body. For some reason, it makes her feel secure.

“Now hold on to the railing,” Quinn says as she guides both of Rachel’s hands towards the metal handle. She moves again, repositioning herself; this time she whispers to Rachel’s other ear. “Keep your eyes closed. Don’t peek.”

Rachel, albeit feeling a little fidgety, manages to laugh. “I’m not. I promise.”

Her breath hitches when she feels Quinn’s soft hands slide down to her waist, and she’s surreptitiously praying that Quinn didn’t hear the sharp gasp she just made.

“Step onto the railing,” Quinn continues, her tone without any indication that she heard _anything_ at all. “Careful okay?”

Rachel feels her way through, maneuvering with wobbly knees as she raises one foot to step onto the railing. She falls a little out of balance, but Quinn’s hands manage to keep her steady.

“Good. Now, your other foot.”

Rachel can feel her heart lodge itself in her throat, and she honestly doesn’t know if it’s because of the fact that she’s teetering over the edge of the ship (though it’s quite ironic given that she’s purposely done something like this—perhaps even worse—when she once thought of taking her own life by jumping); or that Quinn’s body is pushed flushed against her own, and it’s the nicest she’s felt for a while—maybe her entire life.

She keeps a trembling hand gripping around the rail, while she lets the other be taken by Quinn, their fingers slowly entwining.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

Rachel, _again_ , lets out a nervous laugh at the umpteenth reminder. And somehow, a part of her wants to tell Quinn that she would probably never open her eyes until she’s sure she’s back on safe ground.

But the urge to follow Quinn, to be with her, regardless of the spontaneity, wins over every other fleeting fear. (Rachel wasn’t raised to be up for spontaneous things, but the freeing feeling she feels coursing through her is absolutely overwhelming, in the best way.)

“Do you trust me?” Quinn whispers softly.

The question is quite ridiculous, Rachel thinks, but she hears the smile in Quinn’s tone; can feel Quinn’s breath hit her cheek, so she returns the smile in kind.

“Do you trust me?” repeats Quinn, this time heavier.

Rachel thinks—knows that there’s more to _that_ than what their current situation is telling. Still, she answers, “Yes. Of course, I do. I trust you.” _More than anything_ , isn’t said because she’s certain that Quinn knows it already.

She tries not to jump though when she feels a light kiss pressed on her cheek. They are, after all, teetering over the edge of the bow of the ship. That fact ceases any lavish movements she’s accustomed to doing.

Quinn takes Rachel’s other hand, carefully unwrapping the fingers from the rail. Slowly, she raises both of Rachel’s arms, spreading them apart as if they’re wings, the shawl twined around the smaller girl flapping against the wind.

There’s a dubious frown etched on Rachel’s forehead, but it disappears quickly when Quinn whispers, “Open your eyes, Rachel.”

***

The feeling is nothing like she has ever felt before, with the wind blowing against her face, and the warm rays of the setting sun hitting her skin.

The feeling is good, _too good_ , and Rachel honestly can’t find the right words to describe it. The only thing she knows is that it feels like she’s flying.

It’s like _freedom_ in some way, and she’s more than glad that it’s Quinn who has made her feel this way.

Rachel turns her head, mirroring the wide smile Quinn is wearing. “Is this how it feels like to fly?”

“I suppose,” answers Quinn. “It feels great, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” Rachel nods fervently. “Yes, it does.”

Quinn’s smile grows even wider at the obvious exhilaration in Rachel’s tone, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of Rachel’s carefree laugh (like the one she first heard that time she taught her how to _spit like a man_ ). She wraps her arms around Rachel’s waist completely, pulling her impossibly closer.

“Welcome to my world.”

***

It’s not until Quinn starts singing that Rachel realizes she’s in love.

Quinn slowly runs her fingers towards the length of Rachel’s arms, and they fill the spaces in between both of Rachel’s hands as soon as they reach them. “ _Come_ _Josephine, in my flying machine._ ”

The realization doesn’t hit Rachel all at once, but when it finally does, it hits her right in the chest, robbing her of air.

She turns her head, feeling a sudden need to see Quinn, even though she’s there standing behind her, and as soon as her eyes land on the girl, she feels like she’s running out of breath.

A part of her wonders if this is how it feels like to drown, while she continues to get lost in flecks of brown and hazel; and if it’s this fast, like how stones sink into the sea. She swears it feels that way.

A huge part asks, at the same time, if this is what she would’ve felt if she _did_ jump that day.

Though she knows that the answer is _nothing compares_ , because it’s drowning in a good way and it’s something that she’d plunge into, _always_.

“ _Going up, she goes. Up she goes._ ”

When Quinn smiles at her, and Quinn presses her cheek against her temple, Rachel’s almost entirely sure that she’s found the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with.

***

Quinn has never had Rachel this close, and now that it’s happening, she’s finding it hard to breathe. Rachel’s scent is all that she can think about, and how it mixes with the smell of the ocean, creating a kind of fragrance Quinn knows will permanently be imprinted in her mind.

There are three words caught in her throat, dangling dangerously on the tip of her tongue. But she bites them down to keep them from entering the physical world. She doesn’t want to scare Rachel away, but God knows how hard it is for her not to tell.

This is the most grounded she’s ever felt, and Quinn doesn’t want to lose that in any way.

So she squeezes her tightly instead, reveling in the feeling of Rachel resting her weight against her. She doesn’t even care if her heart’s pounding wildly beneath her chest or that if it’s too loud, because she wants Rachel to hear. She wants Rachel to know that she makes her feel like this.

It’s perhaps almost as good as saying what she wants to anyways.

***

The rest of Rachel’s life has been planned out, the moment one of her fathers died. And Quinn wasn’t part of any of that.

She’s supposed to marry the Hudson’s only son—is _actually_ engaged to him, just recently. She’s supposed to be the obedient daughter who would save her family’s name, for the sake of a promise she had made before her father’s last, dying breath.

She’s supposed to fall in love with Finn, and see her future in Finn’s eyes. Her first ever kiss is supposed to be shared with him.

Yet, here she is, doing the exact opposite; although the irony of how Quinn’s name rhymes with Finn’s doesn’t get lost on her. But she’s here, falling in love with Quinn, seeing her future reflected in Quinn’s eyes.

She’s here, sharing her first kiss not under the stars, which is how she has always imagined, but rather under the setting sun, while standing on top of the rails on the bow of a ship.

It sounds ridiculous—dangerous even—but Rachel wouldn’t want it over anything else.

She frees one hand from Quinn’s hold, and lets it travel at the back of Quinn’s head to pull her even closer. Her fingers thread into Quinn’s hair, golden strands bouncing onto the taller girl’s shoulder as the knot gets completely loosened.

She feels the buckles of Quinn’s suspenders press tightly against her back, and it’s a little painful, but she doesn’t mind if it means she gets to have Quinn _this_ close.

The light casts upon Quinn’s face when they break apart for air, and she looks so amazingly beautiful that Rachel feels her chest constrict right on the spot.

It’s ridiculous. It’s dangerous. But she’d do it again and again.

***

At the end of it all, Quinn tells Rachel, because it feels too much to just contain, and she’s going to explode all over the place if she doesn’t.

The surprise is written all over Rachel’s face, but Quinn doesn’t let herself falter because she means it. Rachel _needs_ to understand that she does.

She’s not an idiot, as she has told Rachel once, and she knows that they’re worlds apart. But she has also never thought that she would win tickets over a random game of _Poker_ , which eventually led her to all of this. (And she has always been about risks, and knowing which to and which not to take.)

So she tells Rachel, as she walks her to her cabin, altogether ignoring the many reminders of how it is nearly impossible to make things go her way. She’s been wandering aimlessly for half of her entire life, and this is the first time she ever feels like she’s headed in a distinct direction. She’s found a more profound reason to live, and she’s not going to let herself lose that, no matter what.

“I love you,” Quinn whispers again. “I love you and I want to be with you. And I don’t care if I have to fight the whole world for you. I don’t care if I have to go up against every single one of them. I love you. Please let me do this.”

Rachel is quiet, and Quinn feels like she’s going to spew anxiety as the seconds tick by. She holds her breath when Rachel raises her left hand, eyes trailing down the perfectly cut diamond adorning her engagement ring. It’s quite blinding as it glistens under the fluorescent lights.

For a fleeting moment, Quinn feels like she’s going to lose, and her world is crashing down on her, fast, because, really? What does she have to offer? The blank pages of her sketch book? The ten dollar bill folded carefully inside the pocket of her pants?

But then, Rachel’s slipping the ring off, and Rachel’s grabbing her by her suspenders, their lips are meeting in an urgent kiss, which effectively erases every single fear creeping in Quinn’s mind.

The front of her shirt is all crumpled when they part, and Quinn frankly doesn’t care that it’s her favorite among the numbered shirts she owns, as long as Rachel’s holding onto her like she’s holding on for her dear life. Really, she would never mind being needed by this girl in this way.

Rachel leans forward again, pressing their foreheads together. In turn, Quinn rubs the tip of her nose against hers.

“I love you too,” She says as she plants a kiss at the corner of Quinn’s mouth. “And you’re not alone in this. You jump, I jump, remember?”

“Yeah,” answers Quinn. She closes her eyes when Rachel runs fingers across her jaw, tips tracing along the defined line. “You jump, I jump.”

She could stay here, Quinn thinks, she could stay by Rachel’s side and never leave.

*


End file.
